User talk:EATEATEAT
These are not stories, these are my dreams. EATEATEAT (talk) 17:20, March 28, 2014 (UTC) This is not a story, it is a dream. I was investigating this case where a mother of two was being accused for brutally killing her one month old baby boy. He was grabbed by the ankle and thrown down on the mahogany dinning room table. The child's head was split open, it's eyes gone grey with tear trails down it's face. All of the evidence pointed to the mother, though something wasn't quite right. She showed no signs of psychological distress or illness, no history of abuse. There was no motive or reason, and she cried like any mother would when losing the thing she loved most. It was then that I looked to the older daughter, she couldn't be over ten years old. Through this whole debacle, she had been silent. Not silent with grief, just quiet. Her watched her mother become handcuffed with a dead expression, apathy seemingly dripping from her lashes. The moment I considered the daughter may be involved. Ev E''R'y''t'hin'g '''St'oppEd Color began to distort. The police, the mother, the dead child covered up with a blanket, they 'al'l became merely images. Nothing else was real by the daughter and I. Shrill noises abused my ear, I went to cover them with my hands, but found myself paralyzed. The girl stared at me, and I could 'h'ear TV st'a'tic in my head. Her image too began to glitch, like somewhere in her was a corrupted file. I blinked and she was gone. When I blinked again, she had returned with what looked like the mask of a fox. T '''he're was a g''un in ea'ch h''an'd.'' Seemingly in slow motion, she pulled the guns to her head and shot herself in both directions at the same time. Her head exploded and the mask fell off to r'Ereveal what was left of her face. She glitched aga'in and''' her body was back to normal. Again, and she had a knife an--d was carving a deep ga'sh int'o her throat-- She g''li''tch'E'''d again and there were no scars and no knife. This went on for a while, differen''t ways of thi''s girl killing herself/mutilating her body and I co'u''ld''couldn’t look away---- She slit her throat again, her'' 'f''uc'kiing face melted off, she would claw her eyes out. Eventually I wa-s--s able to move but I couldn’t look away. I began moving in reverse, away from her but my legs were not m''oV''iN'''g ,,,a''wa''y fr'om' her legs but my legs were not not notnotnto---- I could not se'EE' so clearly, but at some point she appeared with a cardboard sign that rea''dso'm''eth'inglike---ad something like: "Don't touch me. the rats are in." THis huge smoke cloud C CC''Aame and covered he'"Don’t touch me. The rats are in."r completely. I think it might have been a'''cid'IdIC gas but somth''i--omething made me think it was r'''a----ttt poison. Even though rat pois'on d'oesn’t maKK---E chil'drenbu'rst into flames. HErW'''HO---le body caught on fire and her skin turnedblack.Chunksof--------- flesh was falling 'o'FF'FFF'FF'F'FFf"Don't touch me. the rats are in."' of her I rem---traumatized ---------''ember bein''g au''matized''by the girl and I kept se'eEEEEEing ima'ges of her fl''ash''ing through me head. Her eyes were all' bl'ack'black', no whites at all. Later I ''www''ww''"Don't touch me. the rats are in."w''ww''w''wwoke up fro'm 'th'at dream and only then was I aCTUa--'al'ly AW''ake''. Welcome Hi, welcome to Creepypasta Wiki! Thanks for your edit to the '''User talk:EATEATEAT page. Please be sure to check out all the Site Rules, as it is important to follow them. Failure to abide by them may result in your account being blocked. Read some new pastas by checking out or browse by topic by checking out the Genre Listing. Please leave a message on my talk page if I can help with anything! LOLSKELETONS (talk) 17:18, March 28, 2014 (UTC)